Almost Lovers
by RatherBeAWriter
Summary: A series of Harry and Nikki centric one-shots, starting with Nikki's return to work after Hippocratic Oath.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I will never get over Leo's death and I will never ship a couple as hard as Harry and Nikki. So I've decided to write as if the Silent Witness world exists the way I want. This will be an assortment of short Harry/Nikki one-shots. If anyone has any ideas, feel free to make suggestions.**

 **Disclaimer: Obviously own nothing. Just like to re-write things the way they should be.**

* * *

 _"I can't remember. Simple things, like the name of the street where I live.  
And really stupid things, like I can't remember which side my fridge door opens from."_

 _Hippocratic_ _Oath (Part 2)_

* * *

He'd had a plan for her first day back. It involved coffee and pastries on her desk for when she arrived, instead of the mountain range of half-finished reports which had built up in her absence. But that plan had been scuppered by the inconsiderate drunk driver who'd slammed his car into a wall at five o'clock in the morning.

By the time he arrived back at the office, a little after half eight, Nikki was engrossed in one stack of papers, while she used another – which undoubtedly belonged to him – as a coaster for her dripping mug.

"You're sitting at your own desk!" he exclaimed with a grin, clutching his chest in feigned shock.

"Only because Zak was using yours," she responded dryly, before returning his smile.

The sparkle in her eyes caused a rush of warmth through his previously cold body. If there was one person who could make him forget the misery of a damp, early morning crime scene, it was Nikki. The Lyell Centre hadn't been the same during the past week.

"How are…" he started to ask.

"Harry!" Leo's impatient call interrupted.

He turned in the direction of the voice and sighed.

"What did you do?" she laughed, as he visibly cringed.

"Nothing!" he insisted, his voice hitting an unnaturally high pitch. "Leo's just realising he missed his calling as a demon headmaster."

She chuckled again.

"Then you'd better go before he puts you in detention," she smirked, twirling her pen between her fingers as her gaze dropped back to the toxicology results which had previously held her attention.

"Swot," he muttered, flicking her ear as he reluctantly left her alone.

* * *

Their next encounter was at lunchtime. And it was even briefer than the first.

Lunch was supposed to involve convincing her to leave the office. A picnic of overpriced, organic, artisan sandwiches eaten amongst the fiery leaves and low autumn sun of a sprawling London park. Or at the very least a coffee shop panini on the bench outside the morgue. A lot of ideas for things they should do had entered his mind as he waited for her to wake up in the hospital. But it turned out some were more practical than others for the twenty minute slot they tended to allocate to wolfing down food in the middle of the day.

"Barbeque or prawn cocktail?" she asked, holding up two bags of crisps as their paths crossed in the corridor. She'd just finished a post mortem and he was about to begin.

"Where are all the good flavours?" he complained, reaching out nonetheless.

She sidestepped him, whisking both packets out of his grasp.

"A simple 'thank you Nikki' would have sufficed," she teased, struggling to keep a straight face at his put out expression. "You can fend for yourself now!"

Though she took several steps away, her brown eyes never left his, and a part of him wished they never would.

"Thank you, Nikki," he told her, his sincerity almost sounding real. "Can I have my all-time favourite barbeque flavoured crisps please?"

She paused for a second, a wicked grin betraying exactly what was going through her mind.

And then she carelessly tossed the pink packet in his direction.

* * *

Evening came before he knew it. His carefully thought out treats would have extended well into the afternoon. He'd planned to…

The thought trailed off.

Nevermind.

He hadn't even had the chance to check how she was doing, let alone do anything to make the day special.

True to form, she was finishing up all of her paperwork before she went home. No wonder they'd fallen so far behind while she was recovering. Or as she put it, while she was becoming too closely acquainted with the earlier series of Frasier.

"How are you?" he asked, perching on the edge of his desk, which she'd reclaimed before he'd even made his mid-morning cup of coffee, and finally taking his opportunity to fulfil that one small courtesy.

"It opens on the left," she responded, standing up to slide her arms into her coat.

His eyebrows knitted together, while he puzzled over her statement. The scent of jasmine, which drifted towards him as her scarf was wound around her neck, didn't help his concentration. However, even leaving that aside, he still had no idea what she was on about. She waited a rather impressive ten seconds, before her deadpan expression cracked at his confused frown.

"My fridge door – it opens on the left," she explained, with a chuckle. "I remembered. I'm fully compos mentis now!"

"I'd say fully is pushing it," he responded, shaking his head as she continued to laugh.

A grin fixed on her face, she packed up her belongings. It had been a busy day, but she was getting away on time, and she was so glad to be back.

He watched as she headed towards the door, her high heeled boots clicking on the ground with each step. Was it possible that he'd even missed that sound?

"Nikki!" he called after her, dashing across the room and catching up.

At the apparently serious edge to his voice, she turned back towards him.

"Have you remembered the money you owe me yet?" he grinned.

As she punched his arm, another light-hearted giggle escaped her body, and he found himself relishing in the sound.

The day hadn't unfolded quite as he'd planned, but no one could deny that he could always make Nikki Alexander laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow, I was really surprised and encouraged by the response to this idea! So thank you :) Hope you enjoy the next one.**

* * *

 _"I'm fine."_

 _"Are you?"_

 _"Yeah, a doctor had a look at me."_

 _"Lucky doctor."_

 _(Peripheral Vision Part 2)_

* * *

"Harry, it's just a little bruising," she insisted, starting to become irritated by his fussing.

All the time they'd been in the Lyell Centre, he'd been eyeing the high neckline of her jumper with suspicion. He knew what she was hiding, and that it was entirely for his and Leo's benefit that she was covering up.

Now that they were within the privacy of her flat, he took no notice of her protests, lightly tipping her chin upwards and continuing to examine the purpling marks where angry hands had squeezed. Alongside the bruises, were several tiny scratches speckled across her pale skin, most likely from her own fingernails as she'd tried to escape her attacker's grasp.

A classic indication of strangulation.

His head ran through the other common signs. Fractured hyoid bone – that was unlikely given that she'd already been given the all clear by a doctor. Petechiae – there was a redness in her eyes, but it was clear that it didn't come from the bursting of blood vessels. She was tired. Like she always was when she'd given everything she had to her work.

With the recurrence of the thought he'd been trying to push from his mind, his heart and stomach seemed to twist and contract into a tight knot.

 _"You almost lost her today."_

"I'm okay," she told him, forcefully, as his eyes remained locked on hers, and his thumb gently stroked the underside of her jaw. "I already told you that I saw a doctor. And he was one who deals with the living."

Her lips curled upwards, and the corners of her eyes creased as she made her joke.

Harry's didn't. This wasn't a time for laughing.

"Harry," she sighed, her exasperation thinly veiling the part of her that was grateful to have someone who cared enough to take her home and unnecessarily repeat the checks which had already been carried out in A&E.

"Are you sure your throat doesn't hurt?" he asked.

She considered him for a moment, with that same combination of mild frustration and flattery, and wondered if he'd ever believe her.

"I'm. Fine."

* * *

The time for dinner came and went.

"Help yourself to whatever's in the fridge," Nikki mumbled, as his stomach grumbled against her.

She hadn't realised how exhausted she was until they'd sat down in front of the TV. He'd offered to take her out for something to eat - they both knew his cooking wasn't up to much - but she just wanted to stay here, where there wasn't a need to accessorize with a polo neck jumper just to stop other people getting uncomfortable.

He'd been more than happy to stay with her.

As the late afternoon game shows came to an end and made way for the evening news, her head had been drawn towards his shoulder and her eyelids had started to close. Just for a second – she wasn't really sleeping. But she wasn't really paying attention to the local newsreader's awkward transition between an unprovoked stabbing in Poplar and a group of school children cleaning up some waste ground in Wandsworth either.

It had only taken a few seconds from her head making contact with his shoulder for Harry's arm to wrap around her. It was a comforting gesture – nothing more – but her body had shivered as his fingers brushed her skin.

"Are you cold?" he'd asked, rubbing his hand up and down her arm.

With a shake of her head, she'd tried to assure him that she was perfectly all right, but he'd pulled her closer all the same.

Over an hour later, her head had migrated to his chest, as each of them adjusted their positions. Harry's stomach growled again and she started to pull herself upright. The least she could do was throw a ready meal in the microwave.

"I'll get something to eat later," he assured her, brushing her hair from her face and kissing her forehead. "Are you still okay?"

She nodded, drifting back into that state where she definitely wasn't falling asleep, but she where the TV presenter's voice had an oddly fuzzy quality as he rattled off the statistics about some sort of engine. Wait a minute, had Harry changed the channel to "Top Gear"?

"Are you watching me sleep?" she asked, when long after they'd fallen silent she could still feel his eyes on her.

"I don't think you are sleeping, Doctor Alexander," he chuckled, dodging the question.

"It's creepy. Stop it."

Without looking, he could see her smile, and it brought back some of the playfulness her bruises had extinguished.

"No," he told her. "I like creeping you out."

* * *

At half past one in the morning, Nikki jolted awake. She didn't know what had drawn her from her sleep, but if it was a dream it had already been forgotten. The aches from where she'd hit the ground, or where his hands had taken hold, weren't much more than a discomfort, but she could no longer deny their existence. Rubbing her hand over her neck, she frowned. That had been too close a call.

Harry stirred as he felt her moving, his own neck stiff and cracking from falling asleep sitting upright.

"Nikki?"

He blinked and rubbed his eyes, shaking off the slight confusion which came with dozing off somewhere unintended.

"Sorry, I seem to have been using you as a pillow," she apologised, grinning sheepishly in the dark.

"I hope you haven't been drooling," he responded, grimacing slightly as he moved his arm from the position it had held for several hours, and placing his hand on the small of her back to help her up from her equally twisted pose.

"I don't drool!" she exclaimed, indignantly.

He laughed, running his hand across his chest and then pretending to wipe it on the cushion beside him. Somewhat surprisingly, she didn't play along, and instead fixed her gaze firmly on his eyes, her smile shrinking into thoughtfulness as his laughter came to and end and the unlit room fell still.

"Thank you," she told him, leaning closer to kiss his surprised lips. "I needed a friend tonight."

It was soft and quick. Friendly. Just like she'd done a million times. No different to how she'd peck Leo on the cheek when he let her leave early on a Friday evening.

But the static between them felt as though someone had rubbed a balloon against every hair on his body.

She pulled away and a smile crossed her face to mirror the grin which had appeared on his. His cheeks flushed an unexpected shade of red.

Who was the lucky doctor now?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: First of all, Happy New Year! I hope your first day of 2016 has involved less of a headache than mine! However, my desire to stick to the bare minimum of human interaction today gave me the perfect opportunity to finish off this chapter.**

 **Secondly, I hope you enjoy this one shot, which has been 6 months in the works! The idea was always there but unfortunately writing time has not. I've always wondered about how the immediate aftermath could have played out in this episode so this is one take on it.**

* * *

 _"Call me as soon as you hear from the KAD. Tell him if he wants to come round I'll make him his favourite cup-a-soup."_

 _(Shadows Part 1)_

* * *

There was a moment, somewhere between realising the use for the glow sticks, and the sniper's bullet shattering the glass door, when Nikki's mind filled with thoughts of one single person.

By the time she'd been dragged away from Neil's body, and guided outside to Leo's worried arms, her desperation to reach her colleague had reached its frantic peak.

"Nikki,you need to calm down," Leo told her, urging her to take a seat on the wall just outside of the police cordon.

The campus had been evacuated, putting even more distance between her and the one face she needed to see.

"Leo, he's in there," she muttered standing as close to the tape as the officers would allow. "Why hasn't he come out?"

Leo wished he had an answer - he'd even have settled for a better gesture than once again placing his hand on her shoulder. There was no reason for Harry still being in the building. Other than him being a pigheaded, stubborn, know it all.

"You should go home, Nikki. There's no point in waiting here."

He knew it was a waste of time making the suggestion. He'd been trying to get her out of there for hours, all to no avail. Now she certainly wouldn't leave until she saw Harry.

"Everyone step back!" the officer in charge of the scene shouted, as several more stragglers were hurried outwith the cordon.

Leo felt Nikki's muscles tense beneath his fingertips and rubbed his hand soothingly up and down her arm.

"Harry will be fine," he assured her, trying his best to believe his own words.

She didn't respond and continued to look straight ahead, willing him to appear from the building at the far side of the campus.

* * *

It was a further ten long minutes before Nikki felt the pressure release from her chest. A deep sigh of relief escaped from between her lips, catching slightly in her tight throat.

Harry was making his way towards where she stood, flanked by two body armour clad police officers. Apart from the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, and dazed look in his eyes, he was completely fine.

But that didn't undo everything she'd felt before.

Leo's hand remained on her shoulder, acting like some sort of restraint until their colleague was only a few feet away. And then she was off.

The officer manning the cordon didn't stand a chance at stopping her, as she ducked under the tape and launched herself straight towards the startled doctor.

It only took Harry a second to recover from his initial shock.

As Nikki's hands gripped tightly onto his arms, he held her close, one hand smoothing over the back of her hair. He'd seen her angry and upset before but this was something new. Tears flowed freely from her eyes and soaked into his collar as she pressed her face close against his neck.

"It's okay," he murmured, aware that all eyes were on them. "You can't get rid of me that easily," he added with a grin, trying to calm her without causing any more of a scene. It was so out of character for her to lose control, especially in public.

Leo watched on, his eyes meeting Harry's as the younger man looked over Nikki's shoulder for some suggestion of what to do. He could see his female colleague's shoulders shuddering, despite the strong arms which were wrapped tightly around her.

"Come on, Nikki," Harry soothed, pressing his face to the top of her head so she was further encased by his hold. "It's okay; you're okay."

In an instant she snapped, pushing him away, just as suddenly and with as much force as she'd clung to him.

"Of course I'm bloody well okay," she spat. "It's _you_ that I…"

Her words trailed off and she shook her head, squeezing her eyes tight shut and forcing the flow of tears to end.

"Nikki…" he gasped, surprised by the rage and hurt which shone from her still wet eyes.

He reached out, his hand just brushing the cuff of the ill-fitting jacket someone had slipped on over her scrubs. She jerked back violently before he could make any contact with her form.

"I'm not doing this," she told him, turning around and walking away.

Ignoring Leo and without a glance back towards a confused Harry, Nikki strode purposefully in an unknown direction. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment at how she had reacted. It was as though she'd had no control of the outward manifestation of her mixed-up emotions.

Shock – her rational, medically trained brain told her. She'd seen people die right in front of her, been shot at and held hostage. She was in shock and it was no wonder that she was all over the place. A long hot bath and some rest and she would be fine. Harry on the other hand – lingering under explosive devices and ignoring orders – would always be an idiot.

In that moment, the irony of the fact she was guilty of very similar behaviour was lost on her.

Harry also made his way beyond the cordon, roughly following her direction until he came level with Leo. Then he stopped, running a hand through his hair and letting out a deep sigh. She was so… so… His brow furrowed as he tried to pinpoint exactly what he was feeling towards her at that moment.

"She's been through a lot today," Leo reasoned, reading his expression and sensing that Harry was about to be the next of the team to lose his temper. "You both have."

"Yet one of us can still behave like a rational adult," Harry muttered.

"Harry…" Leo warned.

"I'm going home," the younger man responded, turning away before his boss could say anything more. He suddenly found that he had no desire to be around other people.

"I'll call you later," Leo told him, deciding that he would be checking on both of his colleagues later in the evening, but the other man was already out of earshot.

It was Leo's turn to sigh, as his eyes met those of the officer on the cordon, who was evidently struggling to get his head around the scene which had just played out.

No two people had ever been more in need of having their heads knocked together. Harry and Nikki were as bad as each other.

* * *

It was raining and cold. What was that thing called when weather reflected mood?

Pathetic fallacy.

Pathetic – an apt word to describe how he was feeling as he wandered up and down the street adjacent to hers, debating whether he should knock on her door. He was restless, partly as a result of the day's events and partly because he was uneasy about how things had been left with Nikki. They hadn't even had a fight, not compared to the occasional screaming matches which had taken place over the years, but there was something stopping him from falling asleep that wasn't due to his traumatic day.

He paced another lap of the road, before noticing that he was being watched by a stern looking woman in a second floor flat. She probably thought he was a would-be-burglar, scoping out the street for easy targets. It hadn't occurred to him before then that his current behaviour was causing him to resemble the sort of oddball women would cross the road to avoid.

Right, he had to make a decision. Home to order a curry to accompany the bottle of wine which swung in the blue carrier bag he was clutching in one hand, or on to Nikki's.

It wasn't long before his mind was made up and he was dripping all over her doorstep. He rang the bell, hoping the delay in her reaching the door didn't mean she'd been asleep. When she appeared she was in her pyjamas – the long plaid ones that he had once joked made her look like she'd stepped straight out of the illustrations in a old children's book – and her hair had fallen loose from where she had tied it back, but her eyes showed no sign that she had been sleeping.

Her expression was unnervingly serious and at first she had no smile to greet him.

"Harry," she gasped in surprise. "You're wet!"

"Observant as always," he replied, attempting to wipe the water making tracks on his forehead with his damp sleeve, and hoping they could slide back into their easy banter without the need for a serious talk.

It took a moment, but the low chuckle and grin which followed told him that they were okay.

"Would you like a towel or would you prefer to shake like a dog?" she asked, stepping aside and letting him into the hall.

He shook his head, ensuring his hair flicked rain water in her direction.

"A towel would be wonderful," he answered with a laugh, as she ducked out of his way. "I brought wine," he added, as she disappeared into the bathroom.

She reappeared, tossing a folded, fluffy towel in his direction.

"I'm way ahead of you," she smiled, picking up a tall glass from the table to one side of her hall.

For the first time since arriving he noticed that the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. She took a generous gulp from the glass as she made her way through to the kitchen. Harry followed, his frown etching deeper into his forehead.

"How are you holding up?" he asked.

She snorted slightly at the question and turned it back on him.

"How are you doing?" she asked, raising her eyebrows pointedly.

He gave her a weak smile, acknowledging the stupidity of his question. It would be more worrying if either of them was unaffected by the day's events, even if they were somewhat reluctant to admit their true feelings.

"I bought you something," she told him, breaking the slightly uncomfortable silence which had developed from their shared distress. "I'm sorry about earlier," she added.

"Me too," he replied. "I'm sorry if I scared you."

She nodded, offering a small smile in acceptance of his apology, as she placed a wine glass on the table and filled it from the bottle she had already opened. Losing control and losing her temper already felt like a distant fragment of the other surreal experiences she had endured since Charlie notified them of the body on campus.

"Anyway," she continued, turning away and rummaging in a shopping bag which sat on the worktop behind her. "Consider this a peace offering."

Harry grinned as she presented him with a familiar blue cardboard box.

"Chicken," he laughed. "You know me too well."

Nikki felt her eyes crease as she subconsciously mirrored his expression. It hadn't been a difficult selection to make – she suspected that the instant soup formed at least 70% of his diet when he was left to fend for himself.

"Now, the only question that remains is whether you'll be preparing this delicacy for me," he remarked, taking a sip of his wine. "I was almost blown up today."

It was probably too soon to be making light of matters, but it was also all they knew how to do.

" _Almost_ being the operative word," Nikki replied. "As I understand it, you are still quite capable of boiling a kettle."

Harry considered her for a moment, taking in the seemingly careless laugh, but the darkness which lingered in even a happy expression. Nikki sensed the same in Harry's smile. That "almost" was all that allowed them to be in the position to be joking about cup-a-soup.

"Come on, KAD," Nikki announced, making a move towards her living room and shaking off the uneasy feeling which was stirring as her mind wandered to alternative endings to their day. "I'll even let you pick a film to watch."

"KAD?" Harry questioned, frowning at the unknown term.

"Yes," Nikki answered, unhelpfully, delighting in his confusion. "It suits you down to a tee!"


End file.
